akainagi | Yet Ten More Trips Through Wonderland (Trips 35-40)

Yet Ten More Trips Through Wonderland (Trips 35-40)
Author:AkaiNagi
Rating: G
Pairing: Alice/Tarrant
Summary: Prompts 5-10 (Table 4) from

10_prompts.

Prompt: Destiny

Alice Kingsleigh didn’t believe in destiny. Hated the very idea of it. Because who decided destiny? Was destiny decided by the stars? By a god she wasn’t quite sure she believed in? By general consensus or popular opinion? Because if that last one was the case she would be the future Mrs. Hamish Ascot right now and not Alice the Champion, readying herself for combat with a mythical beast.

But as she strapped on the glistening silver armor that would protect her in the oncoming battle, she began to doubt …well, her doubt.

It fit her so perfectly, this armor, there was no doubt that it had been made for her. Or at least someone the exact same size and shape as her. How was that possible?

If she really had been guided to this moment by predestination, that meant everything in her life, from her first trip to Underland as a child, to her trip to the Ascot’s, to her flight from Hamish’s proposal, to her failed attempt to rescue the Hatter from Salazen Grum, to her presence here at Marmoreal, none of it had been her choice. It had all been the work of some invisible hand steering her in some preordained direction. Like a pawn on a chessboard.

But hadn’t the Queen said it was her choice to do this? She could just as easily walk away and shatter destiny into a thousand pieces.

But she couldn’t.

Because this was no dream. She knew that now. Because the Queen, the Hatter, Mallymkun, McTwisp, Bayard, all of them were real. Their suffering under the Red Queen was real. And her chance to deliver them from it was real.

So, putting questions of free will aside, on the back of her unconventional steed, she galloped out to join the forces of the White.

She was greeted by the relief of a Queen, and the smile of a man who told her without words, that even though she had doubted herself, he hadn’t.

Prompt: Follow

When Tarrant saw her emerge from the Castle Marmoreal, all gold hair and silver armor glistening in the sun, he felt his heart swell in his chest. The woman before him was beauty and power and confidence, and muchness personified. Totally different that the Alice who had so adamantly insisted, only days before, that she didn’t slay.

But he had never doubted for a second. His belief in her had been absolute from the beginning, even when no one else had believed. And now, on the day of battle, his faith was rewarded with a smile meant only for him. One that felt like a benediction.

In that second he knew he would follow her anywhere. To Hell. To Death.

To Victory.

Prompt: Haunted

Alice had started something she had no idea how to finish.

She had begun it on a whim one day, wanting to pay the Hatter back in some small way for all the kindness he had shown her since coming to Underland. For all the sacrifices he had made on her behalf. Essentially, she wanted to do something to show him how much she cared for him.

But it had backfired.

Now, whenever she closed her eyes, she could feel his, calloused, work roughened hands in hers. Even when he wasn’t there she could feel his eyes upon her; those green, luminous eyes that seemed to see right through her. Sometimes, she feared those eyes could see her very thoughts; could see that the act of washing and dressing his hands night after night was merely a pretext to be near him, to touch him, to watch him and be watched by him. She felt positively transparent under his gaze.

So haunted was she by the idea that he could read her thoughts that one day, she resolved to speak them aloud.

After all, what did she have to lose but everything?

Prompt: Eternal

Tarrant was acutely aware that their nightly ritual of changing the bandages to his damaged hands had taken on a decidedly intimate quality.

Alice was looking particularly lovely this evening, which didn’t help matters. She was wearing a white dress embroidered all about with little blue flowers about the hem. It was like a garden dancing about her feet when she walked.

And the way she walked today was different than most days; confident and decisive. And her treatment of his wounded hands went faster tonight than usual. Alice was fairly brisk in her ministrations, businesslike almost. But when she was done, rather than picking up her basin and immediately departing, she lingered in her seat, basin full of water and old bandages still balanced precariously on her lap. In fact she sat there for such a long time, staring at him, that he was about to ask her if something was amiss. Then she spoke the words that turned his brain into a jumble and his heart into a drum.

“I should like very much to kiss you. Would you mind terribly?”

For a moment he thought one of the voices in his head was speaking out of turn and playing tricks on him, so he didn’t answer.

When she repeated the question, her cheeks were pink with shame at her boldness, but to her credit her voice remained rock steady.

Dumbstruck, he answered honestly that if she should not mind kissing a man who was half out of his mind he should not mind her doing it, but warned her that he was quite out of practice, having put all of his energies of late into revolutions and such and not to be disappointed should his skill at the art not be up to par.

He would have rambled indefinitely were he not suddenly silenced by the feather-light weight of her lips descending on his. His eyes fluttered shut at the contact. It was not a kiss of passion, but rather was long and warm and sweet. So they sat there, lips pressed together, basin still balancing between them for what felt like an eternity. Or rather it only felt that way to Tarrant because he wished it would last for an eternity.

And when Alice pulled back, her cheeks still pink, but now for a different reason, she thanked him softly and sincerely, collected her basin and left the workroom, closing the door softly behind her.

Tarrant didn’t know how long he sat there in that same position, the ghost of a smile gracing his features, his fingers periodically coming up to touch the place where her lips had graced his own.

“You’re welcome.”

Prompt: Alone

The Hatter never knew what hit him.

One moment he was having a pleasant, if slightly odd conversation with his wife, the next thing he knew Alice burst into tears and fled the room, slamming the door behind her. He was left sitting, dumbstruck and alone in his workshop, wondering what he had done or said that could have upset her so.

It had started out with Alice asking him the strangest question.

Alice had asked him if he would still love her when she was the size of a house.

Tarrant remembered being thoroughly puzzled by the question. He answered, quite honestly, that he preferred her to be her right and proper Alice size, and that having a house-sized wife might prove problematic in the practical sense.

That was when her lower lip began to quiver, her eyes began to tear, and before Tarrant could ask her what the matter was, she fled, her sobs so loud he could hear them disappearing down the hallway, even through the closed door.

Tarrant really was thoroughly vexed at the situation. He replayed the exchange over and over in his mind. Why should she want to be the size of a house? Was she having a craving for upelkutchen? Maybe that was it. The court physician had told him that often women had the strangest cravings when they were pregnant.

Wait.

Oh, dear.